


Must Have Been A Good Dream

by ElizaPembroke



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Domestic Bliss, Domestic Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich, Fluff and Smut, M/M, One Shot, Post-Season/Series 10, Some Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-21
Updated: 2020-11-21
Packaged: 2021-03-10 07:35:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27649621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElizaPembroke/pseuds/ElizaPembroke
Summary: Mickey has a sex dream. For some reason, he’s not too keen on sharing its content with Ian.
Relationships: Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich
Comments: 20
Kudos: 499





	Must Have Been A Good Dream

Sharing a bed with Mickey wasn’t without its risks. Throughout the years, Ian had been woken up by loud snores, kicks to the shin, smacks to the face, mouths and hands around his dick, and a whole list of statements and exclamations, both whispered and brash, urgent and gently caressing.

A moan, though? That was definitely a first.

Initially, Ian thought he might have imagined it, that it seeped into reality from his own unconsciousness. But when he begrudgingly opened his eyes, he was presented with a sight that immediately confirmed how wrong he was.

Mickey was sleeping on his side, facing Ian and looking completely relaxed with his lips slightly ajar and eyelashes fluttering. He must have been dreaming about something _good_ if Ian was to judge from the little sounds coming out of his mouth, and the almost imperceptible thrusts his hips were making.

Ever so carefully, Ian shifted into a more comfortable position, his head resting on his inner arm. So what if it made him a bit of a creep to watch Mickey like that? It was strangely captivating – and also entertaining as hell.

Whatever was going on inside Mickey’s head, it was _evidently_ doing it for him. And Ian had to admit, being a spectator to it was kind of doing it for him, too.

Mickey’s muscles twitched, and he bit his lower lip, which only made the next moan – an actual, erotically charged moan that drove straight into Ian’s underbelly – feel that much more desperate.

Watching as he nuzzled into the pillow, his face a picture of absolute contentment, Ian had to let out a giggle.

It probably came out louder than he intended, because not too long after that, Mickey stirred awake, his eyes unfocused until they settled on Ian’s widening grin.

“Hey,” Mickey exhaled, sounding unusually well-rested. He cleared his throat as he reached for the nightstand to check his phone. “Jesus, it’s still early. How long have you been up?”

“Long enough. Need a hand with that?”

Ian nodded toward Mickey’s erection that started tenting his comforter when he turned on his back. Must have been some good dream, indeed.

“What are you talkin’ about?” Mickey replied somewhat absently as he squinted at the screen of his phone. There was a curious hint of satisfaction in his voice that gave Ian an unexpected sense of pride.

“Come on, you clearly just had a sex dream,” Ian teased, his skin already tingling in anticipation of the conversation they were about to have. “What was it about?”

Mickey, on the other hand, didn’t seem like he was in the mood for talking at all.

“None of your goddamn business,” he brushed Ian off before he got up and padded out of the room.

Huh. That was weird.

They usually had exactly _zero_ reservations about sharing stuff like that. Nothing kinky or objectively fucked-up was ever off-limits between them. Ian even told Mickey about that one dream he had that involved tying Terry to a chair and having him watch as they banged.

And was Mickey _blushing_ when he said it was none of Ian’s business? Even weirder.

Something was off about this whole thing, Ian thought as he followed Mickey into the bathroom. He just couldn’t put his finger on it yet.

“Why are you being so cagey about this?” he asked after he closed the door. “Is it because it was about another guy? Because that’s fine.”

Not that Ian was particularly enthused about the idea of Mickey secretly lusting over someone else, but it was only fair to let him. He still sometimes had that recurring dream about Justin Timberlake.

“I know it’s fuckin’ fine,” Mickey shot back, glaring at Ian through the mirror. The tap was on, and he bowed down to splash some water on his face.

“So?” Ian arched a brow as he stalked closer to him. “Was it that Canadian actor? The Stallone wannabe? You weren’t exactly subtle when we watched that movie with him last week, you know.”

“No. And he’s not a Stallone wannabe.”

“ _Hmm_ , if you say so.”

Their eyes met in the reflection again, Mickey’s hard stare steadily losing its own nonverbal battle to Ian’s cocky eyebrow wiggle.

“Jesus, it was you, dickhead, okay?” Mickey finally conceded, and Ian could very well do without him sounding so mad about it. “The dream was about you.”

Ian rolled his eyes dramatically. “How nice of you to include your husband in your sex dream.” He came to stand behind Mickey, framing his body with his arms as he gripped the sink’s edge. “What were we doing?”

“We, _uh_ , we were fuckin’ in the backseat of Tami’s car.”

Ian tilted his head to the side, taking notice of the slight ticks in Mickey’s expression. Then he broke into a snort. “Bullshit,” he countered amusedly. “You wouldn’t be so flustered if it was just _that_. What was it really?”

Mickey turned around in his arms. He worked his jaw, seemingly going over the true answer before he settled for a smirk.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” he said as he lightly tapped the area right below Ian’s clavicle.

“I _clearly_ would like to know. I couldn’t be any clearer about it, actually. Hey, where’re you going?”

*

“Was it in public?”

“No. And eat your fuckin’ eggs, man.”

*

“Were you on top?”

“Did you seriously call me to work to– No!”

*

**Ian (1:33 pm)**

Were we doing it on a sex sling?

**Mickey (1:34 pm)**

The fuck is a sex sling?

**Ian (1:36 pm)**

_[_ _Picture attached._ _]_

**Mickey (1:36 pm)**

NO!!!

*

“Were we role-playing?”

“Ya, you were pretendin’ not to be so damn annoying, and I was fuckin’ grateful. Now, back to why I’m standin’ here like a total prick: Which soap do you want me to buy?”

*

Mickey finally snapped when they were lying next to each other in bed at night.

“Were we –“

“Okay, _fine_! I’ll tell you!” He let his phone fall from his hands onto the comforter with a melodramatic flair. “Just enough with the twenty questions already.”

Ian lowered his book. “I was gonna ask if we were planning on having sex tonight,” he explained timidly. It took another second of awkward silence before he broke into a face-splitting grin. “Nah. I was totally gonna ask about the sex dream again. Come on, tell me.”

Mickey huffed out a laugh. “Do you have to look so fuckin’ cheery?”

“Yup,” Ian intoned, chucking the book over his back as he turned to lean on his elbow. “I’m really excited to hear about all the _kinky dream sex_ we had.”

“Never said it was kinky sex.”

“What? Don’t tell me you got your panties in a bunch over married vanilla sex?”

“Never said it was married sex, either.”

Ian scrunched his face in confusion. “I thought the dream was about me.”

“It was,” Mickey admitted, somewhat bashful. “Only it wasn’t you now but coupla years younger.”

“How much younger?”

“Think bangs, dopy smile, freckles fuckin’ everywhere.”

Ian’s brows shot upward. “ _Oh_. So, we’re talking courting years?”

“I guess,” Mickey replied, snickering. “If you wanna call it that.”

They both stayed quiet until Ian said:

“Huh.”

“ _What_.”

“Not my sexiest era.” Ian made a contemplative motion with his head, like he was actually thinking it over. “Figured you’d wanna dreamfuck me, you know, with more muscle and hair on.”

“That’s not the fuckin’ po– Do you wanna hear about the dream, or not?”

“ _Obviously_.”

“Okay.” Mickey shuffled in his spot as if he was preparing for a big speech. “So, I was me then, and you were you then, and I came into the Kash and Grab, and we fucked in the backroom.”

There was another long pause.

“That’s it?” Ian asked after some time.

“That’s it.”

“ _Hm_.”

“What now?”

Ian shrugged. “It’s just so… _underwhelming_.” He started laughing when Mickey groaned annoyedly. “Kidding! But seriously, why were you dreaming about us back then? We were scared, inexperienced kids doing spit rides. We were horrible. Why would you wanna go back to that?”

“Dunno,” Mickey said as he played with the phone in his lap. “It was just a dream, right? Shit don’t always make sense. Ain’t no point tryin’ to find meaning in it.”

And that was where he was wrong, Ian thought as he shifted closer to him. He poked him lightly in the ribs as if to say that he wasn’t even nearly done with his questioning.

“What were we doing exactly?” he pushed on, his lips pursed.

“I just told you.”

“Yeah, but I want the whole story. The _deats_.”

“Jesus Christ, _fine_.” Mickey rubbed his hand down his face in a tired gesture. “I came in. I pulled you up from that chair you used to sit on behind the cash register. We made out or some shit. Then we closed the shop, and I blew you in the backroom. Happy now?”

Ian just stared back at him, feeling the tug at the corner of his lips.

“ _What_.”

“Nothing!” Ian threw his hands up in defense. “I used to have similar dreams.”

“See, then why –“

“It’s just that when I had them, I was a 15-year-old kid dreaming about my inaccessible crush, while you are a 30-year-old – “

“Not even close to thirty, asshole.”

“– married guy reminiscing about the past and how you would act differently in it. Which makes you,” Ian paused to flash Mickey a cheeky grin before adding, “a fucking sap.”

Mickey looked like he couldn’t decide if he was insulted or amused and was stuck somewhere between the two emotions, shaking his head in disbelief.

“I’m never tellin’ you anythin’ ever again,” he informed Ian.

“Yes, you are,” Ian retorted back. By this point, he was practically resting on Mickey with the whole upper part of his body. “Oh hey, when you’re done dreamfucking my 15-year-old self tonight, could you tell him that all that emotional distancing from you is gonna be worth it one day because you’re gonna turn into a major sap? Like, he’s _totally_ embarrassing, Ian, just enjoy it while he still threatens to cut your tongue out if you try to kiss him.”

Mickey’s stomach shook with laughter bubbling inside him. “Yea, well, you should dream about your 30-year-old self to tell him this is why I’m divorcin’ your ass.”

“Lies, such filthy lies.” Ian leaned forward to give Mickey a gentle peck, but stopped himself halfway. “Hold on. Was this your way of telling me I should get bangs again?”

“Hell no. I like your giant forehead,” Mickey said with a teasing glint in his eyes, prompting Ian to slap his arm with mock offense. “And usin’ lube.”

Ian felt the atmosphere in the room instantly change. He raised his brow suggestively.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. You should maybe get to it before I fall asleep and the 15-year-old you takes over.”

Ian scoffed, pulling Mickey’s comforter away to position himself between his open legs. “The 15-year-old me _wishes_ he could make you feel as good as I do.”

“Hey, stop bashin’ him,” Mickey replied with a crooked smile as he wrapped his legs around Ian’s hips. “That kid was fuckin’ obsessed with me. It was hilarious.”

“ _Mmm_. Wasn’t too hard to fall for someone who wouldn’t bat an eye in my direction when we weren’t fucking. Can’t say I miss you never showering, though.”

Mickey cut their banter short when his fond expression suddenly turned into a scowl.

“Okay, enough chit chat,” he ordered sternly, his best shot at embodying his old self. “You gonna get on me or what, Firecrotch?”

Ian grinned at the familiar nickname, something dark flashing through his eyes. He swooped down to lick into Mickey’s mouth, his hand already working on tugging down his boxers.

**Author's Note:**

> This was just a silly little idea that came into my head after I foolishly proclaimed that I had no fic ideas left. But it was fun to write and I hope you had fun reading it, too.
> 
> For more spurts of sudden inspiration, find me at [abundanceofnots](https://abundanceofnots.tumblr.com/).


End file.
